Gambling After Midnight
by Heide DeVries
Summary: Twoshot about Bootstrap Bill and Barbossa, not slash. Rated for slight violence.


**Gambling After Midnight****

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**Pirates of the Caribbean is (C) Disney

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It had occurred to Bill that his wife and son were somewhere on land thinking very highly of him. At that moment, that mild August night, his son was being tucked into bed by his mother and she was probably saying, "Will, say your prayers for the night. Don't forget to add your father in them... he's on a merchant's route to east india."

Yet somehow at this moment in time Bill didn't quite care. It wasn't because he didn't love his wife; and it wasn't because he didn't love his son either. It happened to be Bill "Bootstrap" Turner didn't care because he was completely drunk. A half-empty bottle of spiced rum held in his gloved hands as he stumbled about the deck of _The Black Pearl_. _The Black Pearl_, a pirate ship--not a merchant ship, who's captain was one of the most suave, daring in the entire Caribbean.

Jack Sparrow, the captain, didn't mind his drunken shipmate's singing. After all Jack loved hearing the drunken call of 'Yo, Ho, Ho and a Bottle of Rum' just as much as any pirate around; so he didn't mind in the least that Bill was singing to his heart's content. What Jack did mind was when Bill finished off his bottle of rum and began to approach Jack for his own.

A flush in Bill's cheeks, as well as a distinctive sway in the man's unstable walk towards the ship's wheel. Bootstrap's smile as falsely innocent as possible, he asked his captain sweetly, "The rest of that open for takers, Jack?"

Sparrow's attention to the open sea before them, avoiding Bill's question at first, pretending not to hear. The bottle dangled loosely in Jack's left hand, a steady hand on the wheel of the ship with the other.

It just so happened that besides Jack and Bill not many of the other crewsmen were present, most of them were asleep below the deck of the _Pearl_. Perhaps the Crow's Nest was occupied but other than this Jack was alone with the drunkard.

"Well? Can I have it then?" Bill leaned over to his captain, placing a hand on his captain's shoulder, the dark headed pirate's eyes not leaving the bottle of rum for a moment. "You're not going to drink it after all, eh?"

Jack sighed, "That's not be the point mate. It's my rum."

"There's plenty more below deck," interjected Turner making a sloppy attempt to grab the bottle from Sparrow's fingers.

"If that be the case then why don't you scurry on below deck and get ye' some more?" Sparrow took his hands off the wheel for a moment to make a gesture towards the staircase of the ship. Turner had obvioiusly not thought of this response, perhaps the intoxication was affecting his mind far too much.

"Oh." Bootstrap's eyes lowered to the deck. His ebony hair covering his face momentarily as he murmured, "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Wouldn't know, mate." Jack lied as he shook his head, clicking his tongue quietly, "Off you go then, mate! Bring back too if you don't mind!"

"Aye! That I can do, then when I get back... more singing... and we can talk about whatever we were talking about." Turner's mood transformed quickly as he realized his problem was given a solution by his captain. He began a difficult treck down the staircase that seperated the _Pearl_'s fo'c's'le deck to its upper deck. Hands fixed on the railing the entire time Bill muttered the words to several pirate tunes (as if weaving his own song from the mixture) and attempting to stay on his feet. As much as Bill didn't want to visit the storage, at the very bottom of the ship, he felt the need to--all for his dear, sweet friend spiced rum.

It was only when he reached the lower deck of the ship that he began to wonder how he'd gotten 'tricked' into this by his captain. Shaking his head, "He could've just shared his bloody..."

His voice died in his throat as he realized he was the only one awake in the ship. He expected a few men to be up gambling under the light of the lanterns, but what he stumbled upon was the entire crew awake. They had yet to see Bill standing in the shadows of the darkened ship's sleeping quarters, so he made sure he remained hidden. Something was amiss in the situation that was for sure. What made him truly suspecious was that the first mate was standing in the middle of the room, he had his own cabin and should have retired there as he usually did. The first mate, Barbossa was being surrounded by the other crewmen, as if they were listening to him.

"So it be clear that Jack has not disappointed the likes of me, but also the rest of ye', eh?" Barbossa's gritty teeth bared as he formed a frightening smile, "I say it be time enough to make our beloved _captain_ Jack Sparrow meet Davy Jones in person!" Barbossa formed a fist as he said the word 'captain', and looked pleased when he saw the other men agree that the mutainy should be carried out.

Bill suppressed an angered scowl in his throat. Out of all the pirates that Bootstrap had known Jack Sparrow had to be the most honorable of them all--sometimes it was debatable if he was _honorable _or just clever instead.

Gritting his teeth Bill Turner held in his anger, knowing the only thing that he could do was warn his captain about the betrayal of his first mate. "Barbossa..." Bill hissed lowly, shaking his head as he backed away towards the way he'd entered. It was in this moment that Bootstrap wished he'd not indulged so much rum at once; he found himself falling without a means to catch himself. He never did figure out what he tripped on in the darkness of the ship, only that it flung him sideways into the wooden post near the exit to the sleeping quarters. His vision was hazy from both the fall and the alcohol that coursed through his body, making it difficult for him to stand himself back up.

Only when he got up from the floor, bring a hand up to check his forehead for blood, Bill realized he'd made far too much noise, "Bugger..."

The crew all stared at the drunkard before them.

Bill tried to do his best to do as his captain would have: act as if he had no clue what was going on, "Who's winning tonight?"

He felt Barbossa's eyes upon him, seeing him in the middle of the crowded quarters chewing on a fresh Granny Smith apple, "Well, if it isn't Mister Turner. Come to join us in the fun, eh mate?"

"Erm... actually I was on my way to get some more rum..." Bill said smoothly, "I can see it'd be best if I returned later..." With that he tried his best to whirl around in a sauve manner and leave. But he fell again, this time hitting his arm against the wall, jamming his shoulder he gave out a growl. "Bugger..."

The crew parted as Barbossa made his way towards Bootstrap. Bill felt a lump forming in his stomach, not to say that he was particularly afraid of Barbossa, rather he didn't care for the situation he was placed in. Barbossa flashed a smile, biting into the juicy flesh of the apple before saying, as if in complete surprise, "Oh, more rum, eh? Do you mind if I join ye'? The boys and I were about to go have ourselves a wee' bit of a celebration..."

Several of the crew laughed as Barbossa spoke.

_Bloody coward! _Bill did his best to hide his disgust with the first mate, saying with his faux confidence, "No, not at all..."

Barbossa backed away, outstretching his hands in a manner to encourage Bill to go ahead of him. Reluctantly Bootstrap began to walk down the path the crew made for him. He avoided looking in the crew's eyes, realizing that they easily betrayed their ill-content towards him. Barbossa followed close behind as Bill made his way towards the stairs. Once reaching them he began to slowly accend, hoping in the back of his mind that he would not be murdered as soon as he was inside the storage. He knew not what Barbossa had in store for him, for interupting his plans, but Turner knew Barbossa was capable of any autrosity.

He realized too late that he'd forgotten to bring a lantern to the lower deck with him. Bill turned back towards the lit staircase, unable to see Barbossa there. "B-Barbossa?"

Bill felt the air leaving his body as something--no Barbossa--hit him in the ribcage (which must have taken a running start for the other pirate). Thrown against the nearest wall of the darkened room by Barbossa, Bill felt a clammy hand against his throat. "I hate to admit it to ye', Bill, but ye' has the worst timing I've ever seen in'a man..."

A choking sound was Barbossa's victim's only able reply. Turner struggled to regain his footing, but the shorter man would not allow it pressing him further into against the hard surface. Bill's hands covering his attackers own clawing at Barbossa's fingers trying to free himself.

"Now, what to do with ye', eh?" Barbossa teased, his face nearing Bootstrap's own as he savored his ability to over power the other pirate. "I've always liked the thought of killin' ye'. Somethin' about ye' just didn't s't well with me..."

Now Barbossa released the other man, watching with gratification as Bootstrap fell to the ground drawing in heavy gulps of the stale air that surrounded them in the miniscule storage space.

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_Author's Note: This is my first attempt at POTC fiction, please don't hurt me, okay? Also I intend it to be a two shot fiction, but I'm a bum in college so it might take a while for part 2 to come out. So please be patient. Thanks for reading!_


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